Until You Break
by EricaOswin
Summary: "I'm not your lover anymore, Alex. I'm your teacher, your mentor. And I have to push you until you break. I have to know how hard to press." {Broken!Alkita}


Title: Until You Break  
>Fandom: Nikita<br>Song: So Cold~Ben Cocks (seriously!Listen to this:)  
>Disclaimer: Unfortunately, these characters and the tv show they came from are not owned by me. If they did-well, it's a good thing they don't.<p>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~x x x x~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was frustrating. It was unnerving, it was predictable...and it was starting to hurt.

It was..._Nikita_.

Just thinking the name-only six letters-sent Alex's body temperature plummeting. She shakes her head trying to ward off the thoughts that are sure to follow, because if there were ever a time to stay focused, in control, it would be now, when Nikita is less than three feet away. Her back is turned away from Alex as she stands before the long, rectangular table, selecting the weapons for this session.

Its 10:30 in the morning and a cool spring air is twisting through the air, carrying the scent of flowers and grass while echoing the noise of a thriving city. Not that Alex knows first-hand. Nikita insists on draping the tall floor to ceiling windows with a Kevlar curtain and soundproofing the walls of the loft. As if they weren't already isolated enough.

Alex turns away from the window and back to Nikita, watching as she delicately runs a finger along the surface of stainless steel knives. With a simple flick of the wrist she extends the nightstick, then places it back on the table only to twirl the small pistol lying a few inches away. She takes in the structure and feel of each weapon, spending time examining each one with a delicate touch that makes Alex stop and take notice. It's a touch she doesn't see often, something she doesn't expect. Something she longs for.

Nikita turns and catches Alex watching, staring. She pauses but doesn't acknowledge it. No, she never does. Instead she takes a step forward and unzips her hoodie. It falls to the floor and Alex keeps her eyes on it, focusing on the pretty, light blue color.

"Today we're doing hand to hand combat." A flow of electricity surges through Alexandra's body as she tries to suppress a blush. This was exactly what she _didn't_ want. Hand to hand combat meant skin to skin contact. Something Alex didn't do so well with.

"Okay," Alex says without looking up. She can't protest. Nikita is her teacher after all. Alex is just the student. While Nikita steps away to tie her hair in a loose ponytail, Alex steps away to get a drink of water. While holding the water bottle, Alex inhales and exhales even breaths, repeating the breathing technique Nikita taught her to help overcome anxiety. Surprisingly, it seems to be working.

When Alex turns back around, she sees the other woman is dressed in dark skinny jeans and a navy tank top. Her midriff is bared, as always, and the etchings of her Phoenix tattoo are visible.

"We're going to work on your reflexes first. You're in pretty good shape and you usually have speed on your side, but you can be a little too slow to block." Nikita resumes her position in the center of the room, standing barefoot on the somewhat harsh mat the two used for sparring. Alex follows suit.

Nikita flashes a small, almost nonexistent smile before commanding Alex to get into position. Alex does as she's told without hesitation. This part is always easy.

"Good. Now come at me," Nikita instructs. Again, Alex doesn't hesitate. She raises her right arm to strike Nikita in jaw. She blocks at the last moment and deflects another hit aimed at her side.

"Again." Alex aims a swift kick to the same side and Nikita catches her leg in midair before dropping it to the ground, albeit a little harshly.

"Again." Alex throws all her weight into right uppercut on a path to Nikita's chest. Nikita strikes fast, and in flash, she has a hold on Alex's forearm and has twisted it around behind her back, her other hand holding firmly to Alex's shoulder. Alex tries not to wince at the pain.

"You're small. I know you can move faster than that." Her naturally raspy voice is low and husky, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin below Alex's ear.

Alex feels hot, suddenly, and without looking at her reflection she knows she's flushed. Up this close, with almost no space between them, Nikita has to know too. Maybe that's why when she releases Alex, she pushes her forward so hard she stumbles.

Alex pushes a lock of curly hair away from her face, taking a deep breath. When she whips around, Nikita is in the defensive positions, signaling Alex to attack again. She goes at her, hard, taking out all her frustration. Heavy punches, speedy kicks, blocks and a lot dodging. Alex has worked up a sweat by the time she finally gets in a solid hit. It's to Nikita's stomach and it actually has an effect on her. Even if it is barely noticeable. Regardless, Nikita flashes another smile and says, "Good job. If you could only do that every time..." She smirks and turns away, walking towards one of the tables.

"Water break. You mind if I finish this off?" She holds up and shakes the bottle Alex had drunk from before their sparring. It's still relatively full.

"There's a fresh one in the fridge." Nikita's still turned around and Alex takes this moment to take her in. She's tall, about 5'8" and her wavy brown hair is slipping from its elastic hold. But she's also tiny, with small shoulders and toned arms. She lets her eyes travel downward taking in the shape, each dip, each curve of Nikita's body, from her rounded hips and small butt to her devastatingly long legs.

"I hate ice cold water," she cuts in, bringing Alex's eyes back up to her face, where a knowing smirk is plastered on it. "You know that." The way she says it makes it sound as if it's a loaded statement. Like she knows what Alex was doing, what she was thinking.

"You're right. I know a lot of things about you," Alex says it simply, as if it doesn't mean anything. But there's truth to every word and Nikita knows it. She shoots Alex a warning look before taking a sip from the bottle. Alex only raises an eyebrow in response.

While the other woman is rehydrating, Alex wanders towards the window. She slips under the heavy curtain and looks out across the city. It's beautiful out today. The leaves are growing back on the trees and yellow and pink flowers are starting to sprout in yards stretching the length of the block. Everything shifts with a gust of cool wind and Alex longs to be outside, in the fresh air-in civilization-than opposed to being trapped 19 stories up in a loft cut off from all living things.

"It's gorgeous out. We should be outside walking, shopping, eating. I'd even settle for hide and seek." Alex casts a glance over her shoulder and is surprised to see Nikita standing not even a foot away from her.

"We're already playing hide and seek. We're hiding and Division is it," she takes a step closer. "You know we can't risk it. As much as I would love to take you out and treat you, it's just not worth it."

Alex snorts. "Treat me?"

Nikita smiles. A real one, not just a smirk. "Yes. Alex you've come such a long way. You're smarter, stronger, braver, more mature. You're not the same bipolar junkie I brought home a year ago." Nikita lets out a laugh at that, and so does Alex. It's true, and to a normal person that joke would seem insensitive and horrific. To them? It was Alex's past. And Nikita's. It was something they both had in common and there's no shame in that. "I'm proud of you. You know that, right?"

"Of course." In the reflection, she can see Nikita smile as she starts playing with Alex's long curly locks.

"We're fighting for a reason. A good cause. And like all of them, this one comes with sacrifice."

Yes, Division took care of their own. They paid rent for lavish apartments and filled closets with designer clothes. Agents were outfitted with new identities and a new history while their bank accounts were filled with a handsome amount as long as they did their job right. They traveled to foreign lands and mingled with the richest, most powerful people around. But it all came with the price of a life. Some do deserve it, and anyone off the street could tell you that. But others were just in the way of money or power or at the crux of some sort of struggle. And yes, the Cleaners and hackers at Division covered your tracks, erased all movements after the job is done, but that does nothing to the scars, the emotional aftermath.

Years ago, Nikita thought she had the perfect life, with all the luxuries and glamor. Her price was the life of the man she loved.

Alex doesn't know what price she'll pay, if she'll pay any. She's has nothing left to lose. Well, almost nothing.

"I know how you feel, Alex. I was there, the same place you are only a few years ago. It feels like you're buried, hundreds of feet underground and you have to scream-you have to. If you don't you'll go crazy, you'll lose control. And if you do scream, you know nobody will hear you, no matter how long or loud you are. You'll suffocate, and no one would ever know. Ever care."

"Like the entire world is closing in on you, all the air, all the emotions are being sucked from your body and you can't stop it or slow it down," Alex nods bitterly, remembering her panic attacks, how vulnerable and alone she felt.

"That's the worst thing. You know what's happening, you can see it coming months in advance, but that doesn't change anything. Not in the end. Everything falls apart around you...and you know, it's because of you." Alex looks at her out the corner of her eye, a bit surprised. Nikita really isn't the type of person to share feelings. Especially ones this...personal. What she sees unnerves her a bit. Nikita's eyes are empty, not staring at Alex but right through her, and all Alex can see is the color black. Without a doubt, she's thinking about Daniel.

When Nikita remembers where she is, and who's standing in front of her, she shoots Alex a reassuring smile. Except it's not. It's fake and Alex can see right through it.

Alex steps forward. It's horrible but she's glad Daniel is dead. If he was still alive, Nikita would still be at Division and Alex would still be a sex slave in Russia. Filthy men and perverted women. Disgusting living quarters in an underground compound with brutal living conditions and a nasty, near fatal heroin addiction. She'll never regret Daniel's death because the result of it was the rebirth of her.

Nikita reaches out and touches the other woman's elbow and it's mildly shocking to Alex; Nikita isn't a warm and open person. At least, not anymore.

"It'll be worth it in the end."

She looks down at the hand, which is connected to her in the most painful way. Alex is tired of lies; excuses, justifications and apologies. She wants the truth now, no matter how many lines it'll cross. Maybe it's the heat from the touch that sets Alex on edge or maybe it's just her frustration looking for a way out. Whatever the reason, something drives Alex to challenge Nikita.

"Do you ever feel lonely?" Pale blue eyes meet dark brown eyes in a harsh and reckless gaze.

"Alex-"

"You said you felt the same way as I do, and I feel lonely. All the time," Alex gives a small shrug, like it's somewhat normal.

"Alex." Her tone is no longer soft and caring. It's firm and strong. It's a warning. She drops her hand from Alex's arm and looks her square in the eye.

"Don't say you're not. You've been alone and angry for years, long before Daniel and Division came along. And so have I and it's...it's...I...don't lie to me. You're cold and alone and I know you want somebody. Just like me." Alex steps closer, disregarding any boundaries.

Naturally, Nikita slinks away. "It gets easier." Like always she chooses to ignore the elephant in the room. This is the Nikita she knows best. Faking ignorance, telling lies in her silence and leaking the truth through her eyes. She's used to it by now. And that's what hurts the most.

When Alex tries to reach out to touch Nikita, Nikita slaps her hand away and turns. Over her shoulder she repeats again, "It'll be worth it in the end."

She's said that line maybe a hundred times, but for the first time, it dawns on Alex she may not just be talking about the fight with Division.

xx

It's about an hour later and Nikita's showing Alex firsthand how ruthless Division agents can be. Alex is lying face down on the floor, her arm twisted painfully behind her back and Nikita's other arm pressing her face into the mat. It's not until Alex coughs out the safe word, Russia, that Nikita releases her with a sigh. She reaches out a hand to help Alex up, who declines and rises on her own. Even after she turns around, Alex can see that Nikita is frustrated. She touches her forehead before running a hand through her hair, then turns back to Alex.

Alex hates this. She good at this; sparring, the martial arts, krav maga. Actually, she's great at it. She can throw a knife and hit the target blindfolded, with a gun she shoot the mark dozens of feet away and hand to hand combat comes almost naturally to her, just as long as Nikita's _not_ the opponent.

All these lessons haven't gone in vain, but when she's sparring with Nikita she just can't focus. Her eyes see all the wrong things and her reflexes and reactions are slowed, like there's liquid ice in her veins. Her brain goes blank and it seems as if all the color has faded from her world. Her breathing slows down and her senses feel like they've been set on fire and next thing she knows, she's lying on the floor with blood in her mouth and a bruise forming on her stomach. She spends time on the treadmill and practices with the punching bag and can bench press 140 lbs. She's in great shape and she can defend herself. Just not against Nikita.

"You're not blocking yourself," Nikita says, for what? The 20th time today? She sighs and pulls Alex forward, arranging her in starting position. She raises an eyebrow pointedly. Nikita starts by throwing three punches her way, all of which Alex easily blocks with her forearms. It's a lot easier when she knows what to expect from Nikita. This time the punch is aimed at Alex's face, which she swiftly dodges by ducking and delivering a hit to Nikita's stomach. She stumbles a bit, but resumes unfazed, kneeing Alex full force in the stomach before pushing her to the ground. She sighs again and covers her eyes with her hands for a moment.

"Stand up." After a few breaths, Alex does as she told, holding a hand to her sore abdomen. For a while Nikita doesn't say anything, just paces in front of her. "Okay. Pretend I'm not Nikita. I'm an agent at Division, or a Cleaner."

"We do that every session, and we still don't get the results you want," says Alex, before Nikita can finish her thoughts. She rolls her eyes in response, clearly annoyed.

"Find. I'm a trafficker. I'm your old trafficker and I came to bring you back home." Alex tenses and for a moment, and out the corner of her eye she swears she saw Nikita take pride in her reaction.

"I come up behind you in a dark alley way or an abandoned parking lot." Here Nikita stops behind Alex, wrapping her arm around her neck, hand closed around the base of her skull, other arm pinning one arm behind her. Her face is smashed against Nikita's shoulder and every part of their body is connected. This is too much for her. She's hot all over again and there's a throbbing deep inside her body. It's not until Nikita sighs again that she realizes she just failed a test.

"You have a free arm, Alex!" Shit. That should have been obvious. Nikita releases her, obviously not knowing how to get through to her.

"I know you know how to do this! What the hell is the problem?" Her head is bowed as she rubs her eyebrow. Finally, she looks at Alex, expecting an answer to a question Alex was hoping was rhetorical.

"I don't think you want to know the problem is," Alex jokes, wondering if her shoulder is dislocated. Again. Maybe on another day, during another session the joke would have been funny. But not today.

Instead, Nikita charges toward her, a mixture of annoyance, anger and frustration on her face. She kicks Alex's legs from out beneath her. Alex curses loudly as her shoulder, back and finally her skull collide with the hard floor. For a moment everything is white and all Alex is aware of is the pain radiating throughout her body.

Nikita places her foot on her stomach and bends down low, her face mere inches away from Alex. "This is not a fucking game. Do you hear me? Once you're in Division, I can't come and save you. You have to be on high alert at all times, you can't just trust anyone who smiles at you or compliments you hair. You'll be locked in an underground bunker with hundreds of highly trained killers, some of which have been doing this for as long as you've been living. If anyone should find out you're a traitor, a mole, _my_ mole, I can guarantee you, they won't so much as blink at the order to torture you." Nikita doesn't back away or remove her foot from the body below her.

"I've watched you practice by yourself. You're _good_ at this. You're good with knives and guns and you have great reflexes and perfect timing. But when you're up against another person, it's like you've forgotten everything I taught you."

Alex stays silent, shifting her eyes away from Nikita. "That can't happen once you're in Division. Once you make agent, it's either their life or yours. I won't be there to pull the trigger or kiss your cuts and bruises."

And all of a sudden, Alex feels angry. She's not a little kid; she doesn't need _anybody_ to take care of her. Years ago, she was helpless, loss and on the brink of death. Back then she had nobody, nobody to wipe her tears away, or bandage her cuts, or tell her everything would be okay, tell her to stay strong. Yet she survived. She watched her family die, she was sold on the black market, and she survived being a sex slave for five years. Yes, Nikita was the one who got her clean, and yeah, she did teach her to defend herself and she told her the truth about Division. But up until that point, Alex was the one who kept herself alive, kept going, kept fighting.

"I can do this, okay? You think I'm still that little girl in Russia who needs your saving. I'm not. That was nine years ago!" She sits up, shoving Nikita's leg off her stomach, hard. "You came back in my life two years ago. That was seven years I took care of myself, seven years I pushed myself, seven years I survived, all on my own. So no, I don't need you to kiss cuts and bruises and I don't need you to baby me. I chose this fight because I wanted it, because I knew we could win this. Trust me, when the time comes, I won't fuck it up." Alex is standing now, arms crossed, glaring at Nikita, who's obviously shocked by her outburst.

Surprisingly, Nikita doesn't yell. After a few moments of silence, which feels like a year in Alexandra's head, Nikita steps forward.

"Everything that happened in your past is my fault. Everything." Alex doesn't protest, only diverts her eyes. Nikita begins to pace. "If I had never told you about Division, had never told you the truth, you'd still be in the dark about these things. You'd be safe." Both women tense up. Safe. Such a state of mind never existed, for either of them.

"As soon as you walk through those doors at Division, you won't be. Everything is going to change, and for the worst. I need you to be able to take care of yourself, protect yourself. If something happens to you, I won't know about it and I won't be able to help you." Nikita takes a step forward, hooking two fingers in the belt loop of Alex's jeans.

"Once inside, you won't be Alexandra Udinov," Nikita says, using her Russian accent. It makes Alex shiver.

"Who will I be?"

"You'll still be Alex. But not the same Alex. You'll have to be two. Strong, but vulnerable. Falling apart, while holding yourself together. Hopeless and hopeful. Obedient and defiant. You need to be immoral, brave, and observant. You have to cause problems without raising any eyebrows. You have to raise eyebrows without causing problems," Nikita gives a sad laugh. "It's going to be hard."

"You don't think I can do it," Alex says, the anger slipping away, self-consciousness taking its place. Alex tries to take a step back, but Nikita puts her other hand on her hip, anchoring her into place.

"I know you can do it. But this is important, Alex. You-"

"I _know_ this important! Division murdered my family! My father was slain right in front of my eyes. Because of them I was sold on the black ma-"

"And _you're_ important too," Nikita finishes loudly. Alex falls silent and stares into the dark brown eyes of the woman before her. "You're all I have left in this world," Nikita continues quietly, "and if anything else should happen to you, because I didn't train you good enough or push you hard enough..." Nikita gives a bitter laugh. "Then that's another thing to go on my conscience. And that'd be unbearable."

Alex steps closer, bringing their bodies together, then whispers, "I don't blame you for my past." She reaches out a hand and runs a hand through Nikita's dark locks. "You're the reason I have a future." Alex does something she hasn't in a while. She leans forward and presses her lips to Nikita's. It's a tentative kiss, Alex half expecting Nikita to push her away like she always does. But while she's waiting for that moment to come, she enjoys the feel of Nikita's lips, soft and warm on her own. Alex opens her eyes for a moment and feels a rush of ecstasy when she sees the other woman's eyes closed, feel her part her lips for her. Green light given, Alex relaxes, something she hasn't done in a while. A pair of tiny, strong arms encircle her waist and their two bodies are meshed together.

Alex was right about Nikita being lonely; that much she can tell from the way Nikita kisses her. It's hungry, it's passionate, it's sloppy and it's full of aggression and longing. Alex wraps her arms around Nikita's neck, making sure there's absolutely no space between them. Her hands are tangled in Nikita's hair and Nikita's runing her hands up and down her body, backing the two up into a corner. Alex's bruised body collides with cool brick as they break for air. She lets out a laugh. "We're wearing way too much clothing." Nikita responds by pressing her body back against hers, chest to chest, stomach to stomach. Her fingers trail the sensitive skin of her arms. Alex pecks her on the lips before pushing her back an inch or two. Knuckles dragging along Nikita's taunt stomach, she pulls the tank top over her head, leaving Nikita in a tiny black bra and skinny jeans. Still to much clothing.

Alex lets out a soft moan as Nikita flicks her earlobe with her tongue, trailing soft kisses from her ear to shoulder. She's almost certain she hears a growl as the other woman tugs on the hem of T shirt, clearly frustrated it's still attached to her. Alex smirks. For once Nikita isn't patient, isn't trying to keep things slow or under control. She's not thinking about the future. Alex considers voicing these thoughts, but pretty much forgets how to talk when she feels Nikita's hand squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, kissing the exposed skin of her collarbone. Nikita steps back again, rips off her T shirt and is on her again, just like that. Face buried in her neck, hands working the buttons on her shorts, breath ragged, Nikita pulls Alexandra's hips to her own, grinding against the younger woman.

Alex lets out another moan, fully aroused now. Her hands drift from Nikita's hair down to her bottom, squeezing softly, bringing her closer. She pulls her bra strap down, dropping a kiss on her shoulder before reaching around her for the clasp. Nikita slaps her hand away. Alex smirks. "The only time you're ever playful is when I'm in desperate need of something. " She kisses her again, exhaling into her mouth and all she feels is bliss. This is perfection. It's lust. It's love. It's reckless and whatever you call it, Alex wants more of it.

And then she feels Nikita pull her hair. Not a sexy, hungry tug of the hair. More of an angry one. Aggressive. She locks her eyes on Nikita's and all she sees is disappointment. Why?

"This is what I meant when I said you were to trusting." Alex is confused. What is she talking about?

"What?" She pushes her curls away from her face and squints at the other woman, her hands still on Nikita's hips.

"Did you forget I'm one of them?" Alex's hands are no longer connected to Nikita in any way, though she barely notices. In fact, she's not aware of anything except the sensation of falling and the rush of confusion as her body, once again, collides with the cold hard mat. She's on her back and for a moment she's staring up at the dingy gray ceiling, more confused than ever. Then she sees Nikita. Then she feels her.

She puts all her weight, which isn't much, onto one knee and drives it into Alex's stomach. Alex screams in pain, curling her body up and trying to force Nikita off her, but it's no use. Nikita makes herself comfortable; one leg folded with her knee keeping Alex in position and the other knee keeping her balance on the mat. She feels Nikita's small, once delicate hand jerk her head to the side.

"Did you forget I'm one of them? You cannot trust anyone from Division."

Alex doesn't say anything. She can't. Her breaths are coming faster now, too fast for her own comfort. Her head is spinning and she can't focus on anything. She can hear her heart beating in her ears and she knows the tears aren't that far away.

"You can't trust _anyone,_" Nikita stresses staring straight into her eyes.

"Not even you, huh?" Alex tries to pick her head up, but Nikita only pushes it back down.

"I could kill you right now, you do know that, right? A second from now and you could be dead." Nikita jerks her head painfully to the side for emphasis. Alex cries out again, the world blurred because of her tears. She inhales deeply, then exhales, trying to calm herself. It's not working.

"You won't do that." Her voice is shaky, and she curses herself inside her head, because everything is falling apart. _She's_ falling apart.

"Why do you think that?" Nikita asks, sitting back a little, majority of her weight still on Alexandra's stomach.

"Because I know you." She closes her eyes and swallows, trying to ignore all the pain, physical and mental. It's always there, the pain, sometimes it's obvious and all consuming. Other times it stays hidden in the dark corners of your brain, lurking, waiting. But it's always there, and it's all because of her. The woman she loves.

"And?"

"And I trust you." Alex feels nauseous. Like she's about to heave up every terrible thing that's ever happened in the company of Nikita. Like she's about to puke up all the happiness, all the hope, every good feeling or thing she's ever experienced.

"Why?" The older woman questions, squinting at her.

"Because." Alex can't look at her. She doesn't want to look at her or herself or anything else in this world. She feels hollow now, like a doctor cut her open and removed all her organs, all her nerves, all her blood. She feels like the carcass left behind after a pack of vultures attacked her, only leaving behind the things they couldn't eat.

"Why, Alex?" Her voice is loud and sharp. It feels like lightning struck her, struck her heart and it left her burnt. Dead.

"Because I know you couldn't," Alex chokes out, the tears finally coming.

"You're lying to yourself," Nikita says, moving her face not even an inch away from Alex. Her voice is low and dangerous. But Alex doesn't feel afraid. No. She doesn't really feel anything now.

"I know you won't."

"Why?" She's impatient, and she puts more pressure on Alex's abdomen to prove this point. Alex grabs her by the waist and eases her up, stopping her from causing her anymore pain.

"Because I love you. And I know you l-" Nikita slaps her hand over her mouth and nose, silencing her, suffocating her. No, Nikita never liked to hear the word 'love' and she certainly didn't like hearing it come from Alex's mouth. Nikita keeps her hand there, keeps her knee on her stomach, her eyes on Alexandra's as the younger woman claws at her hand, desperate for air. Nikita watches as panic flashes in her eyes, as fear brings her back to life. Alex uses all the energy she has left to bring her knee up into the air and crashing into the back of Nikita's head. As Nikita flies forward, Alex takes the opportunity to drag herself out from under Nikita, sending a hard kick to her side. She watches as Nikita tumbles to ground, groaning. For a fleeting moment, she wonders if she seriously hurt her. Then reality kicks in.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Alex screams, her voice strained and hoarse, all the pain and fear from the last two years bleeding into it. She watches as Nikita stands, rubbing the back of her head. She winces and turns, walking into the kitchen. When Alex doesn't get an answer, she gives up. She curls into a ball and begins sobbing. Her head is throbbing, her body is broken and her heart...she's wheezing now. She's having trouble breathing and her entire body is shaking. And it _hurts_. It just hurts so, so bad.

Her entire world is spinning and throbbing and darkening. She has no idea what Nikita is up to until she's right next to her. The side of her shirt is lifted and she feels something cool pressed against her skin. An ice pack.

"Don't touch me! Don't fucking touch me!" She hears Nikita sigh and the ice pack is removed from her side. Nikita grabs hold of her arm tries to force her to look up at her. Alex struggles, naturally, twisting and kicking and pulling away, until Nikita gets a firm grip on her shoulders.

"I'm not your lover anymore, Alex. I'm your teacher, your mentor. And I have to push you until you break. I have to know how hard to press."

And that only makes Alex cry harder. She's broken. In more pieces than anyone could ever imagine. And all for the sake of this stupid fight. Because of Division. Because of her past. Because of Nikita's past. Because she wanted a future. With this woman. The woman she loved. Thought she loved. Didn't know if she still loved.

Was it even worth it?

When Nikita stands again, Alex rolls over onto her side, to shaken to cry anymore tears.

When she looks up into Nikita's eyes, she sees guilt and pain, but something else too, something she can't decipher. But she knows what she's thinking, though. It's the same nine words she's been saying for the last few years. The same words she's used to push her, now over the edge.

It will all be worth it in the end.

But Nikita said those words. And she's said other words before, taught her other things. And one of them was that you can't trust anyone from Division.

Not even Nikita.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~x x x x~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whew! This was a LONG one! Thank you for reading!

Reviews are love guys!


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